F4&K IT - The Story
by Sjarken
Summary: - HERE COMES THE PAIN TRAIN! When two friends awaken in a little game called Dark Souls, buggery happens. Buggery being a shitload of pop-culture references, unfitting humor, inappropriate jokes and friendships we all wished we had. I do not take responsibility for loss of IQ or virginity as a result of this story. Read at own risk. Rated T for Scandinavian Humor.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: A (Shit)Storm of Swords and Plunging Attacks

In an Asylum we have all heard of by now, in a cell we've all spawned in, there was a dude. He wanted to say he was huge, brutish and brave, but he was actually impulsive, angry and annoyingly cheerful. And, in the biggest plot twist ever, he was all that but not French.

Said dude was actually rather strong due to his marvelous 40 strength, and almost equally flexible at a whopping 35 dex. With his 50 endurance and 40 vitality, he was clearly rocking a PvP build capped at 130. However, in the second biggest plot twist ever, he also had a buddy with him in his cell. Said buddy was much bigger than the dude, standing at nearly seven feet, while the dude was around six feet. They were best buddies, and they were currently playing cards.

And they were also more confused than a bird that had just flown into a window. Because they were in a game they both knew, and that game was Dark Souls. Suddenly, the first mentioned dude realised this, and he jumped up.

"Holy shit, man! We're in Dark Souls!"

The bigger dude just sat there. "Ye?"

The smaller dude slumped slightly, dissapointed at the lack of reaction from his buddy. The buddy continued. "We've been for like, five minutes? Did you seriously not think about it till now? You should've invested in some Intelligence, dude."

"Oh, like you have?" The dude laughed loudly. "You're rocking that 60 strength, and what, 50 vitality? It's almost like you wanted to one-hand something huuuge!"

The bigger friend looked at his smaller friend, and raised an eyebrow. "I need all that strength dearly. Nightly activites are costly for my stamina."

The smaller friend, not allowing himself to laugh at such an innapropriate joke, retorted: "Then you should have invested in some endurance, dumbass."

"What's the point when you don't get tired out anyway?" He put away his cards and flexed his bicep. It was really huge, and clearly not full of steroids at all.

"Watch it man," the smaller friend said, keeping his smile covered under his thief mask. "You might pop that vein you stick syringes into every week."

The bigger friend snickered, and picked up his cards again. "It's a shame your wrist isn't half as quick as your mouth."

The smaller friend smiled slightly, but didn't give his buddy the last word: "Some people want to _think_ fast too, you know, rather than _work it_ fast."

They sat in silence for a while, before the smaller friend continued again. "Man over-board! Now let's get outta here, shall we?"

"Agreed." The bigger friend rose, and pulled the rusty door to their cell off its hinges, before tossing it to his buddy. He barely caught it in time, and slammed it on the floor. "LET'S GO, MOTHERFUCKERS!" The bigger friend didn't reach reacting before his buddy sprinted past him and murdered all the hollows in the next room. That is, until he noticed the big-ass demon which was patrolling beside him. Literally, the demon had a huge ass, and the only thing separating it from him were a few broken steel bars. Yeah… yeah. He decided to be more cautious.

They quickly made it through the Asylum, before they encountered their very first bonfire. The smaller friend turned to his bigger friend, smirking wide. "You remember the relief we felt when we encountered these in-game, eh?"

"Yeah. I imagine it will feel even better now that we're in here."

"Speaking of, do you miss home?"

"What the fuck is home?"

"NO IDEA. Let's kill an Asylum Demon!"

The bigger friend haulted him. "Wait." The smaller friend turned, and biggie continued: "I have two things to say… no, three actually."

"What?"

"First, and most importantly, I have to piss."

"HA-…"

"Second, I don't remember my name, and I doubt you do either."

"Oh shit."

"Third, maybe we shouldn't kill the Asylum Demon."

"What?!"

"LISTEN! If we kill the Demon, maybe Oscar will die before we reach him. We always discussed that if we could make our own choices, we would always start Dark Souls by helping Oscar." The smaller friend nodded slowly. "Yeah… why doesn't that idiot just drink some Estus anyway? Then he wouldn't need that dramatic speech crap that he pulls."

The bigger friend shrugged. "Maybe he wants to go out with a bang… or rather, a whisper."

"Nah, he talks about all that shit he wanted to do and ring the bells and herp derp, DEAD. He's just senile and forgot he had Estus in his back pocket."

"You know, I'm starting to think teenagers like us don't belong in Souls."

"I disagree. Just because we're aware of when we can save ourselves and when we cant-…" The bigger friend cut him off. "That's not what I'm-…" He couldn't help but laugh for a second. "What I mean, is that we are in the middle of insecurity, depression and angst. Don't you kinda need a clear head when playing Souls?"

"Eh. I finished the games multiple times when I was bullied by that handball-guy, remember? The one that ended up with a broken nose?"

"Yeah. Felix did him in good."

"We called him Z-Nose if I remember correctly, due to the strange way his nose looked when staring at him directly!"

They both laughed. Amidst all the laughter, one could hear the larger friend trying to form a stuttering sentence. When they were finished, he finally did: "How do we remember THAT, but not our own names." This almost triggered another wave of laughter around the bonfire.

The smaller one pulled himself together, and said: "We should give ourselves names man! We can be called anything now, so we should give ourselves something sweet and badass!" The bigger one started thinking: "Hmmm… I've always wanted to be called Cedric. I think it's a really balanced and elegant name."

"Unlike yourself, you mean?"

"Ha-ha."

The smaller friend thought. "Now what about me? I want my name to be unique, like Cedric for example. A name that you don't encounter much around here."

"John? Chester? Peter? Osc-…"

"Shut it, too generic! What about... no, too masuline. Maybe… nah, too feminine again…" And so he sat for a while. The bigger du-… Cedric I mean, tried to think as well, but couldn't find any fitting names.

"You're too unique, man! You're unnameable!"

"Meh. Until we figure out something better, I'm gonna call myself Diesel."

Cedric burst into laughter. "Diesel? What could possibly be more masculine than Diesel?" The smaller friend spread his arms in submission. "I don't know man! It just fits me, I think…"

"Yeah, you always were so cheap."

"Oh, shut up."

Diesel rose, and looked to the door. "Okay, so now that we have settled that…" He looked back to his friend. "Speed-run the Asylum?"

"Wow, that's unfair. Why did I have to have the knight as starting class? You're thief, so you have much lighter gear."

"You have 60 endurance. And I do believe I see Havel's ring on your finger there. You can run just as quick as me." Cedric looked down. "Oh shit."

Diesel started walking. "So let's go then!" And then he set off into a run… before colliding head-first with the still-closed door to the courtyard. Cedric passed him, bursted through the door with his heavier frame, and sprinted towards the door which led past the Asylum Demon.

But then he stopped. "Wait a minute." He turned around, not bothering about the huge, green and slobbering creature which landed maybe five or six meters away. "I can just tear off the door in the bonfire room." He didn't even reach taking a step before Diesel sprinted past him though, so he simply stood there dumbfounded.

_Uhm, _he thought. _Oh yeah. Asylum Demon. _Without breaking a sweat, he spun on his heel and caught the incoming hammer in both hands. "YOUR 40 STRENGTH IS NOTHING TO ME DEMON!" he shouted dramatically, before tearing the hammer into his own hands. The hammer immediately shrinked into comfortable size for his hands, and he swung the giant thing around, smacking the demon in the face.

…

In the meantime, Diesel was already halfway through the Asylum, having already picked up his expected Target Shield and Bandit's Knife. He was now backstabbing that annoying bow-wielding Hollow, as he had dreamt of doing so many times. Him, and the fucking Silver Knight Greatarchers in Anor Londo. They could all burn in Hell… Or Izalith. Actually, both.

Anyway, he didn't care much about the Hollow, but rather about Oscar. He looked through the bars to his room, but due to the game's engine now inheriting realistic lighting, he couldn't see shit in there. The light which usually shone on Oscar was nowhere to be seen. Strange.

He continued up to the boulder-rolling Hollow, and immediately rolled to the side when he saw the big black ball coming. He regretted it even more immediately though, as the rolling animation wasn't as smooth in real life as in the game. Therefore, he landed hard on his ribs on the stairs below, clenching his teeth as he did.

"FUCKING FUCK. GRAVITY, FUCK EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU!" He rose, and looked at the Hollow above him. "Just you wait, asshole." He then entered the room where Oscar was… Or rather, was supposed to be. Because the room was empty. The Asylum Demon hadn't gotten around to smashing him through the roof yet, apparently.

Diesel smacked himself in the face, facepalming harder than he'd ever done. "Of course! He's supposed to drop the corpse into our cell! And since we weren't there, he must've taken another route." He looked around. "Well, wherever you are Oscar, I hope you got out safe. Because this place is fucking HUGE, and there's no way I'm looking for you!"

…

_MAN, it feels good to smack this bugger around! _

Cedric was close to breaking into a fit of happiness as he continously knocked the Asylum Demon on its fat ass. He had dreamt of breaking the game's rules since the very first time he got squased by this fucker. You know, back when he didn't know about the door to safety… which he later noticed had two torches around it to basically tell him: "THIS WAY YOU NOOB."

He was starting to get bored of smacking the Demon around like an oversized golf ball though, so he decided to end it by swiping its feet away under it before smashing its head into the rubble. The Demon's death animation played out, accompanied by its dying… burp?... before it deteriorated into souls.

"Meh. My stats are good."

He has ever since wondered how the fuck he managed to catch a hammer, which weighed more than a freight train, in his bare hands. He always came to the same conclusion though: he's just a fucking beast.

…

Soon the two friends were standing on the edge of the Undead Asylum's mountaintop, overlooking the other mountaintops around them. Reminded them of their trip to Norway when they were young. The snowcaps shone to them in a brilliant light, as they heard the beating of wings closing in. They closed their eyes, held hands, and prepared to be carried away in a giant raven's claws.

They waited… And waited.

Then the smaller one opened his eyes, and pulled down his mask.

"WHERE THE FUCK IS IT."

Then the raven flew by them, headed away from the Asylum. In its claws they could barely make out the shape of a man in Elite Knight armor. He seemed to notice them, and they believed they saw him _wave_ at them.

"… Fucking Oscar. We should have just let him die."

They were so pissed off, that they forgot that they were still holding hands. Oscar, however, didn't.


	2. Chapter 2

_Quick Author's Note: Well, this is likely the only A/N you'll see in a while, but I just wanted to say that if anyone felt like the last chapter was a bit rushed, then you're right. It was a prologue, dipshit. What'd you expect?! L2story nub. GOML_

Chapter 2: Titles are for fgts

As Oscar's feet touched the green and fresh grass of Firelink Shrine, he immediately knew he was fucked. In fact, a normal person would've had pretty much already pissed himself. Pretty much. Because he had just seen all this in about half a minute: A huge fort that was bigger than most cities. A big fucking drake. A city that looked like it belonged to the Gods themselves. Still scary. And finally, a dozen Hollows and Demons in various areas.

Yeah, he didn't feel to confident in that little task he had been given. That little thing that required him to slay probably fifty dozen Hollows, half as many Demons (he guessed that one Demon counted as thirty Hollows), probably avoid about a hundred traps, and then slay some more Hollows. All so he could ring a fucking bell in some damp cave. Why? There must be a grand reward, right? No, not as far as he knew.

However, Oscar was a proud knight of Astora, so this did not bother him. However, he realised that he was going to need some help, so he needed to find able fighters. And maybe set up a group of them.

"Those two lovers back at the Asylum…" he remembered. "They looked rather strong. Maybe I should wait for them?"

"They won't be here in a while," a voice suddenly called to him from behind. "That crow will need to take them here if that's going to be the case, and that ol' thing definitely takes its time." Just as he said that, the crow took off and left. He tried, without much success, to hide his frustration. "Dumb flapper," he muttered.

Oscar turned around, and for the first time he noticed a man sitting by an old and crumbled wall. He wore a complete set of chainmail, apart from the helmet. That thing looked fucking stupid anyway. At his side was a sword and a heater shield. He looked rather tired and worn down.

"Hello friend," Oscar greeted him. "May I know your name?"

"No," answered the man. "I am simply… Crestfallen."

"Well then, Crestfallen, may I ask what you're doing here?"

"No."

"Where you're from?"

"No."

"What was your name again?"

"No. Wait, what?" The crestfallen one facepalmed hard. He obviously hurt himself, but kept his hand there to hide the tears. "Are you stupid?" he said through the thick lump in his throat. "Isn't it obvious that I don't want to talk to a pompous ass like yourself? You can't even show me your face in all that armor! And that… _fancy sword._ Do you really think that I want to talk to you?"

Oscar sighed. "First of all, I may not show my face, but you don't even have the dignity to show me your tears. It's okay my friend, hurting yourself only means you have a strong arm." The crestfallen one briefly sniffed and desperately tried to wipe his tears. Oscar continued: "Second, this sword is fairly average for an Astorian. And third, you talked to me first. So why in the world would you not want to talk to me then?"

The chainmail warrior snorted. "Just because I talk doesn't mean I want you talking back," he barked.

Oscar shrugged patiently. "Suit yourself. But can I please know your name?"

The crestfallen looked like he was about to spit out another superiority complex, but instead he sighed, and gave his name. "Henning. My name is Henning. What about you?"

Oscar bowed deeply, showing respect to his newfound comrade. "My name is Oscar of Astora, Elite Knight of the 3rd Garrison, Wielder of the Blessed Blade, Prayer of the Ancient Songs, Defender of Justice and Assaulter of Dark. Pleasure to meet you."

The crestfallen listened quietly, before pointing a shaky finger at him. "And y-you wonder w-why I don't want to talk to you. Y-you pompous piece of tinfoil sh-…"

But Oscar had already left, heading further into the church, where he finally broke his calm persona.

"JESUS FUCK WHAT AN ASS," he said, waving his hands wildly around the place.

…

Diesel was sitting down at the tip of their little mountaintop, looking for the huge eagle that he dearly wanted to pick them up. Because it was fucking cold up there, and Cedric was feeling it too. They were certain that if it wasn't for the cloth inside their armor, they wouldn't be two boys from another world, but two FUCKING FREEZING boys from another world.

"My ass hurts," Cedric complained.

"That's not the first time you've said that," Diesel replied.

"If it annoys you-…"

"-it pleases you, yeah yeah," Diesel finished the sentence for him, sighing heavily as he did.

At this point they would be laughing childishly, but the cold was keeping the humor down as well. "You know," Diesel said. "I'm starting to think that going through Lordran will kind of be like eating vegetables."

Cedric furrowed his brows, and looked at his friend questioningly. Diesel stared at him for a while."You don't fit the 'living questionmark' swag, bro. You fit the slash more. You know, you never were too straight, were you?"

"Ha-ha, gay jokes. Can you seriously be more offensive? What if I was gay and attracted to you? You know how easily I beat you down when we wrestle, so you better not offend me."

"So you're gay?"

"What?! No! I said _if_!"

"As far as I heard, you said:_ I am so weak compared to you, so you better not make gay jokes and offend me._"

"What, I-… Oh, screw you. I'm losing IQ just looking at you. What were you saying anyway?"

Diesel looked dumbfounded. "What? Oh, yeah. The vegetables thing?"

Cedric nodded slowly. "Yes, numbhead."

Diesel pointed into the air, in a super annoying _'I got it!'_-way. "Yes. You know how we are literally the most immature people here, right? So maybe going through a dark and demented Lordran will help us get more mature! Kind of like vegetables makes you grow up big and strong, you know?"

Cedric looked at him for a while. And another while. Diesel was just about to ask what the fuck was crawling on his own face when Cedric burst into laughter, rolled on the floor and clutched his stomach. "That is the funniest comparison I've ever heard, my life-long friend!"

Diesel couldn't help but smile himself. "It's good to have a friend whose intelligence is also in single digits!"

This caused Diesel to start laughing and Cedric to laugh even harder. Between all the crying and laughing, Cedric spat out: "W-we may be able to open a door with our IQs, but hell no if we'd be able to close it!"

Diesel had to pull down his Thief Mask to let out all the laughter at this point. Cedric straight-up tore off his Knight Helm, as he feared he would laugh it apart. He didn't mean for it to roll right off the cliff, though.

"Fucking useless helm, pulling a fucking One Ring on me," he muttered.

Just then, a great hero stepped forth to advance the story. Diesel was still recovering from their hysterics, so Cedric decided to meet him. The dude was wearing the most BADASS armor ever seen by a living thing, with pretty much the most badass weapon in history laying slung on his back. The armor looked like it was made from black metal, and Cedric immediately recognised it as the Black Knight armor. Except that the helmet was missing, and in its place was a mask. Didn't look like any mask he had seen though. Looked pretty much like his mum when he hadn't cleaned his room in a while, meaning it looked like it was going to rip off his head, shit down his neck, then screw his head back on again. Then he'd wake up and go to the toilet, then walk out weighing twenty pounds less than he did walking in.

In common speech, it looked kinda angry. And it was silver, just so you know that. Cedric didn't really say anything, fearing that the man would put that dangerously sharp katana on his back to use. He thought it was the Chaos Blade, which scared him even more. Memories of Black Phantoms, usernames involving about a dozen X's, Mother Masks, Hollow Soldier Skirts and Dark Wood Grain Rings flew before his eyes briefly, before he shut them down in the deepest corners of his mind.

The warrior also had a Grass Crest Shield, the Ring of FaP, and *GASP* the Dark Wood Grain ring… PRE-PATCH. Meaning that this guy was most likely flipping with 14 i-frames in all that armor.

Cedric felt kind of small suddenly, despite that he was half a head taller than him. Eventually though, he managed to find the bravery, or stupidity, to utter the silliest sounding question ever: "So, heh, do you, uhm, have any spare armor, matey?"

He mentally facepalmed. How CanadaAussieBritZealand could you make yourself sound? How careless could you be?! HOW SUICIDAL COULD YOU WISH TO BE?! The warrior was surely now going to chop his head off, take his humanity, then leave Diesel because he had cool armor.

But he was wrong. To his imminent confusion, the warrior was just going to stand there. That is, until he started pooping out items. He shat out a _badass _looking set of armor, which Cedric immediately leapt for before notifying Diesel, so that he was sure he was going to get it. He then picked up a black Balder Shield and a badass machete. If he remembered correctly, this was the Man-Serpent Greatsword. He also picked up a pyro glove, in case he wanted to burn Diesel's eyebrows at some point.

Diesel immediately leapt for a lighter set. Diesel had always been one for flexibility, so he went light so that he could vary his weapons. He replaced his Thief Mask with a much more badass Dark Mask, put on some dingy-looking bracelets, and Dark Leggings, but he kept his Black Leather chestpiece. Cedric never admitted it, but he looked fucking badass. Diesel then picked up a Falchion which he sheathed on his right hip, clearly for off-handed parries so that he could show off, and replaced his Bandit's Knife as a primary weapon for a Longsword. He always loved that flexible thing in-game. Cedric remembered how angry Diesel got when he saw how boring they made it in DkS2.

When Diesel had put his longsword on his left hip and Bandit Knife on his back, he turned to take a look at the guy who had gifted them the stuff. However, nobody were to be seen.

"What the f-," Cedric stuttered. "I wanted to thank the guy for giving us all this stuff."

"Holy shit, you look badass," Diesel said as he noted his friend's armor. Indeed, Cedric had secured himself the most menacing set. He had a badass sword on his back, a ballin' Balder Shield strapped over it, a chestplate with thorns poking out of it, clearly straight from Kirk's set, as well as Havel's Gauntlets and Leggings. With those two, he didn't need weapons to do damage with his limbs. The armor was made so that he could just hug someone and they'd be dead.

Diesel guessed that that's what they called a bear hug. Or a porcupine-hug.

And then came the sound that they had both been waiting for. A beating sound of giant black wings. They didn't even reach holding hands this time before the crow picked them up from the ground… And almost dropped them again. Can't blame it! No one had told it that these guys had NG+ armor!

…

Oscar had just met the strangest guy ever. Petrus of fucking Thorolund. First he had shown some random-ass shyness, like he had some superiority over Oscar. But then he had given him a useless-ass bronze coin, as a token of "friendship." Oscar was all for friends, but holy fuck, he would never fight alongside that weirdo of a cleric.

However, he was just about to see something even weirder. Because the Chosen Undead had arrived, and he hadn't arrived by Crow. No, he had just rose from the bonfire like some badass Lord of Fire or something, wearing a black suit of armor with a silver mask. Oscar immediately went to greet him, but soon found himself lying on the floor. Lierally, as the Chosen Undead had tackled him, now pressing a knife at his throat.

The Chosen muttered something about Oscar being supposed to be dead, and Oscar asked if it was a bad thing that he was alive. The Chosen didn't move immediately, but after a while he shrugged, and let Oscar up. However, before Oscar could start any kind of conversation, the black knight was gone.

"Why do they always leave me," Oscar muttered bitterly. However, his silent prayers were soon granted, as the black raven was once again coming to Firelink Shrine. However, now he was carrying two instead of one. And it looked rather tired from the extra weight, as well.

These two weren't so lucky with the landing as Oscar had been, and they both pretty much nosedived into the grass, one of them landing right onto a slab of rock and breaking it with his heavy armor. Oscar went to the help him up, and see if any of them were hurt. However, before he could do so, he suddenly recognised who they were.

"Hey! You two are the lovers from the Asylum!"

The one closest to him, the one with lighter armor, looked straight at him. At least Oscar assumed so, since it was hard to tell from behind that skull-shaped mask. The one in heavier armor was now staring as well.

"… Lovers?" they both said in unison.

…

After some brief clearing up, with both of the newly arrived breaking into fits of laughter at least twice in each sentence, they finally managed to explain to Oscar that they were not lovers. Oscar was still skeptical about their explanation: "We were just trying to make the moment more dramatic, man!" But he decided to keep it to himself. He seemed to have pissed of everyone he stumbled upon recently, and these two seemed quite jolly, so he wished not to anger them with any more poking questions.

He had taken good notes of both men, and figured that they each played roles on the battlefield. The one in heavier armor looked like a mercenary with his broad jaw and light stubble, as well as his short blonde hair, while the other one looked more like a spy from Eastern lands, minus their typically slanted eyes. Now that the latter had removed his mask, he saw that he was quite handsome, with little to no stubble, and strong features. Not as rough as his friend, but more balanced. Oscar noted that the man was most likely quite the womanizer.

The bigger man immediately approached Oscar, and offered to shake hands. "My name is Cedric, and you are Oscar of Astora, no?"

Oscar was perplexed by the fact that he knew his name, but he still shook the friendly man's hand. He almost felt his gauntlet dent inwards from the firm shake. He then approached the more lightly-armored fellow, and shook hands with him as well.

The spy spoke first: "I'm Diesel, and we come from a distant land… I think. I don't really remember no more."

Oscar offered his sympathies. "Yes, a common side-effect of the Undead Curse I fear."

Diesel looked at him curiously. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

Oscar eyed him a bit, before deciding that this Diesel was testing his self-esteem. He answered confidently: "No. I expect warriors like yourselves to not be crying at some forgotten details, like any aforementioned home. You're Undead, just like many others."

Not wanting to hurt the man, he quickly followed up: "However, if you do find comfort in this fact, then feel free to take it. Comfort is precious and rare in these times, I fear."

Diesel, apparently happy with the answer, nodded in a pleased way. He then turned to his friend, pointing an accusing finger at him. "That fatass almost caused the crow to fucking drop us! What were you thinking putting on that fucking porcupine-armor?!"

The 'fatass' looked dumbfounded, immediately wiping it off his own face, before retorting: "At least I thought about keeping my weapons were I could see them! How many times did you almost drop that sword of yours, that got nerfed hard in the next game anyway?!"

Oscar did not understand the last part of that sentence, but he still got a feeling that the burly man was insulting his friend's weapons. Oscar was shocked to see this behaviour. Insulting another man's weapons?! Abhorrent!

And rightfully, the smaller man put a hand on his chest, stumbling backwards while a look of pure shock donned his face. "TOO FAR, MAN! TOO FAR!" He was about to continue when he was interrupted by the sound of someone laughing. Almost like it was their first time. And yes, soon both Diesel and Cedric had absolutely dumbfounded looks on their faces, as they both stared at a gasping Oscar on the ground. Oscar tore off his helmet to be able to breath between the bursts of laughter. As all knights did, Oscar straight up stated his mind:

"I like you two! Did you see your own face, Diesel?!"

Diesel stared at Oscar with wide eyes. He looked back and forth between Cedric, Oscar and the Crestfallen Warrior, who had been watching it all in silence. After five whole minutes had passed, he finally managed to open his mouth, and form a somewhat coherent sentence:

"Didn't I, maybe guess. Almost."


End file.
